"Who needs BOYS anyway?" Krystie- my ex-girlfriend- yells over the noise of the crowded Parisian nightclub she, Jamie and myself have found ourselves in.

"I'll try not to take that personally!" I yell back, handing the two girls their drinks and escorting them back to their table in the club's VIP area where Krystie immediately raises a toast.

"To being single!" The tall, attractive woman says. Jamie, Krystie and I clink our glasses together, but I can't help but comment on the surrealism of the scene.

"Never thought I'd be toasting being single with my ex..." I laugh.

"And on Valentine's Day too..." Jamie giggles.

Ordinarily, the thought of spending Valentine's Day with not one, but two sexy, famous models would be any heterosexual man's dream, and I very much consider myself to be a heterosexual man. However, when the two models are your ex and one of your very best friends, It can get a little... awkward. Krystie and I still have an occasional- VERY occasional- 'friends with benefits' relationship, but with Jamie... It's hard to feel erotic thoughts for someone you view as like a sister.

Sure, I already have two sisters, both of whom I love dearly, but in the months since I've met (and, yes, briefly dated) Jamie, I've come to love her in just the same way. She truly understands the path I've trodden, and I can open up to her in ways I can't open up to Emma, Becca or my parents. I'm sure she feels the same way about me- sometimes she's said she's told me things, secrets she hasn't even told Charlotte, her 'official' BFF.

Over Christmas Jamie and her five closest friends- including Krystie- gained national fame as the stars of a new reality TV show, meaning our weekend in Paris is being documented by film crews, as is the wedding I'll be attending this weekend in Belfast of one of the 'Angels' as they're known- the wedding of Mary, Krystie's best friend, and Dan, with whom I've become a good friend as well.

Just as footballers have wags- wives and girlfriends- so do the 'Angels' have habs- husbands and boyfriends (well, just boyfriends for now). As well as myself and Dan, our 'group' consists of Keith, Jamie's best friend's boyfriend, who I'd probably consider my best male friend following his unconditional acceptance of me as 'one of the boys', even if he is overprotective of both Charlotte and Jamie. As well as Keith there's Paul, Dan's best man, and Jonathan, boyfriend of one of the 'Angels' and the nephew of their manager. Together, the five of us have been on nights out at clubs, nights in gaming, watching DVDs, eating pizza and crisps and generally acting like stereotypical twenty-something lads. I've loved every single second of these nights- both in and out- and as much as I have to thank Jamie for introducing me to the group, I have to thank Keith for accepting me to the group, even if the occasional nicknames of 'male Jamie' (for my transsexual status) and 'hamster' (for being the same height as and bearing a slight resemblance to Richard Hammond) aren't terribly flattering.

As I stumble back to my hotel room just after 11pm, I can't help but reflect on how lucky I am to have what I have in my life. I have a thriving career in music production, a mild degree of fame from my association from Jamie and her friends, a proper 'gang' with Keith and the lads, and a family who truly loves me for who I am. And yet... I feel incomplete. When I strip off my clothes and look at myself in the mirror, naked, I don't see a man, or even a boy. I see a masculine-looking girl with no breasts and a clitoris that looks like a finger growing out of her groin. Every time I'd have sex with Krystie- or any other woman- it'd be commented on that it'd looked 'fine', 'normal', 'almost like a penis'- but that 'almost' hurt. And yet, as much as I'd like to have a penis, to be a 'proper' boy, I know that the risks outweigh the benefits.

Sighing, I pull my boxer shorts back on and climb under the sheets, shielding my small frame from the cold Parisian night...

I awake with a sigh at 7:30am and shower quickly, before dressing in a plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and heading down to breakfast. Inevitably, I'm the first to arrive and I eat quickly, but before I leave I run into Becca and Riley- her boyfriend- entering the restaurant.

"Oh, hi Stu!" My 18-year old sister says, grinning as she holds hands with her also 18 year old boyfriend.

"Hi Becca, Hi Riley," I say. "Good night last night?" I can't help but grimace as Becca stares into Riley's eyes and giggles excitedly.

"...Never mind," I sigh.

"Oh stop being so over-protective!" Becca complains.

"I'm your big brother, I'm meant to be over-protective," I say. "I remember when you used to be ten years old, telling me about your imaginary friends..."

"For god's sake!" Becca hisses. "Stop being so embarrassing!"

"Nah, 'ten-year old Becca' sounds so sweet..." Riley says, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Becca. I can't help but giggle as I head back to my room to grab my case. When she'd first asked to come on this weekend away, I'd been wary, and dad had been downright aghast that his baby girl would be having a romantic weekend away with a boy, but as she pointed out, she IS technically an adult, even though every time I look at her, I can't look past the sweet, innocent ten year old girl she used to be.

Becca is, like most girls her age, a fan of 'the Angels', even though she personally knows two of them through me. For Christmas, I actually got her a private dance lesson with all six girls (even though she still attends Krystie's class anyway) and she was utterly star-struck, despite being as good a dancer (if not better) than any of the Angels. Last month, she applied for representation with the same agent that represents the Angels, and was signed to a contract on the spot after impressing with her singing voice. Becca has aspirations of being the next Cheryl Cole, and every time she talks about her dreams, my mental image of her as a ten year old girl just grows dimmer and dimmer. And seeing her with a boy... it almost hurts.

I've known Riley for a while- he's Krystie's brother, so technically I've known him longer than Becca has- and I know he's a good lad, even if he is a bit shy. He's actually hung out with the rest of the guys a few times as well, and in theory, if I could pick anyone to be Becca's boyfriend, he'd be high on the list... But I'd much rather not have to pick anyone at all.

Every time I'm reminded of Becca as a ten year old girl, though, I have to remember that thirteen years ago, I was a ten year old girl myself, and my parents have had to see me undergo a much bigger change than Becca. They still sometimes address me as 'Claire', despite it being almost eight years since I legally changed my name. I don't miss being a girl, not one bit... But sometimes I miss being a daughter.

"Hi mate," Keith says as I walk up to where he's stood with Dan, Paul and Jonathan. "Sleep in?"

"Nah," I reply. "Just wanted to get some breakfast before looking around Paris. What time did you all get in?"

"Just after midnight," Jonathan says. "Glad my uncle's come so I don't have to chaperone Addie..." I look over my shoulder at where Adeola- Jonathan's cousin- is stood chatting with Becca, both girls having slipped a hand in their respective boyfriend's back pockets.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I know the feeling..."

"Oh stop being such a fucking wuss!" Dan laughs. "She's eighteen! Frankly it'd be weird if she DIDN'T have a boyfriend."

"And you know we'll all help you beat him up if he breaks her heart," Jonathan interjects.

"Thanks, that means a lot," I reply sarcastically. "And yes, I know I SHOULD let her do her own thing... None of you actually have younger sisters though, do you?"

"I've got a younger brother," Keith mumbles.

"And Addie's like a sister to me," Jonathan says. "Now can you please try to stop whining and just enjoy the weekend? You know, grow a pair?"

"That's what I've been trying to do for most of my life," I retort, making Jonathan chuckle. "Okay, let's enjoy Paris. At least I won't have to worry about camera crews following me..."

"For the record," Keith says as we walk back to our respective partners (or 'companions' in my case), "I kinda see Jamie as a little sister, so I do know where you're coming from."

"A little sister who's almost identical to your long-term girlfriend?" I retort with a laugh.

"She is not almost identical!" Keith says. "Okay, maybe a little. Point is, if anyone hurt her like that arsehole Gould did last year..."

"Basically, you always wanted a little sister, right?" I laugh.

"Yeah, I guess," Keith sighs, staring a little TOO long at Jamie as she arrives in the hotel reception to be greeted by Charlotte with a massive hug- another thing about being a girl that was a positive... Though for entirely unwholesome reasons as far as I'm concerned!

After wandering around Paris for a while with Jamie and Krystie (during which Krystie jokingly offers me a 'wet willy' in exchange for photos of a 4 year old Becca in her flower girl dress), we head as a group to the airport, where Joshua's booked a private departure lounge, complete with a buffet lunch- that myself and the boys demolish very quickly! Before too long, we're on the posh plane to Dublin, and on a posh private coach to Belfast, where the wedding will take place. I was sat next to Krystie on the flight, but for the coach, I find myself sat next to an unusually tipsy Jamie.

"God, that flight SUCKED," Jamie complains as she dramatically flops into the soft leather seat.

"Yeah, your breath kinda gives it away," I laugh. "You were sat next to Paul Kennedy, right? Not exactly front of the line when charisma was being handed out..."

"I didn't help much there," Jamie whines, before leaning in close to me (causing me to recoil slightly from the strong smell of alcohol coming from her mouth). "Can I tell you a secret? I'm dreading the wedding. Being the only single girl there..." This surprises me- clearly when Krystie promised me that 'wet willy' (which I'm still not 100% what it actually is), Jamie must've thought something else was going on...

"Um, has Krystie ceased to exist or something?" I laugh. "We're not seeing each other again, far from it!"

"But- but Paris...?" Jamie asks confusedly.

"Which one of us shared a bed with her again?" I ask, savouring the mental image of the two beautiful women in bed together. "We're just friends, friends with the occasional 'benefit', nothing more."

"God, this is gonna sound bitchy..." Jamie moans. "But you know, I'm actually... I'm actually kinda glad."

"What, you want me to yourself, or her to yourself?" I ask, making Jamie giggle and lean in for a quick cuddle.

"You're sexier," Jamie says. "I MUCH prefer pecs to tits!"

"Except on your own body, right?" I ask, making Jamie giggle even more. As she rests her head on my shoulder, I can't help but shiver a little as my heart rate increases- obviously, she's a very beautiful woman, and one of my very best friends, but what I'm feeling right now... It's new. It's like I could talk to Jamie for the rest of my life and never run out of things to say. I don't believe in god, or souls... But that not to say that I don't believe in the idea of soulmates. And right now, Jamie comes closer to filling that role than anyone I've ever known...

After we arrive in Belfast, we all head to our rooms where the girls prepare for a hen night- all except Becca and Adeola, that is, who I encounter in the hotel restaurant.

"Hi girls," I say. "Not joining the big night out?"

"Nah, underage," Adeola moans. "I mean, would it have killed them to wait a couple of months?"

"Mary will be HUGE by then," I say. "And the way things seem to be going between Viks and your cousin, you may not have to wait too much longer for another wedding..."

"Yeah, my uncle REALLY loves them both," Adeola giggles.

"I'm not going on the hen night either," Becca interjects. "Even though I'm NOT underage, figured I'd stick behind and keep my best girl company!"

"Good," I say. "On all counts, apart from you NOT being underage!"

"Oh whatever," Becca says, taking a very long, deliberate sip from her wine glass. "Guess what, jerk? I'm not a kid anymore!"

"Yeah, you are," I say dismissively as I stare at the restaurant's menu.

"Oh- geez- you are lucky you're not WEARING this wine!" Becca growls as I giggle.

"You're the one who always wanted a big brother, remember?" I say. "You're the one who had the imaginary friend called Stuart..." I can't help but feel a LITTLE sorry for Becca as Adeola giggles at my teasing, but my poor baby sister is just so funny when she gets wound up... And it really doesn't take much to get her to that state.

"Yeah, well," Becca says, "REAL Stuart isn't a patch on IMAGINARY Stuart!" I can't help but giggle at the half-hearted comeback, but I decide to let her 'have the win' regardless.

As I walk back to my hotel room with Becca, I can't help but feel a little guilty about the teasing, even though Becca has long since returned to her usual cheerful self.

"In truth," I sigh to the 18 year old woman as she enters her hotel room, "it is kinda hard, as a big brother, to watch you grow up so fast. I feel a lot closer to you than I do to Emma, despite the age gap being bigger between us."

"I feel the same way," Becca sighs. "But I AM growing up. That little girl you know... She's been replaced by a bigger, BETTER model. Much like one of my big sisters got replaced by a bigger, better brother!" I laugh and give my little sister a quick hug. "Even if he can be an overprotective, annoying jerk at times!"

"I'll never stop looking out for you," I say. "Or being overprotective, annoying and a jerk!"

"Go and enjoy your stag night," Becca giggles, releasing from the hug. "And try not to think about how much I'm enjoying my boyfriend!" I can't help but roll my eyes as she shuts the door in my face, even though she is, of course, 100% correct in everything she says. She'll never stop being my little sister, but she stopped being my baby sister a long time ago.

I put these thoughts out of my head as I rendezvous with Paul, Jonathan and Keith outside Dan's hotel room. As is tradition, Dan and Mary are sleeping in separate rooms on the night before the wedding, and whilst Dan's happy for Mary to go out on a hen night and soak up the adulation of her home town, Dan himself would rather have a quiet night in his hotel room, watching television. Needless to say, the four of us don't intend to let him.

The second Dan sets foot outside his hotel room, the four of us pounce, each grabbing a limb and lifting him bodily off the floor. Even though as a personal trainer, he's extremely fit, he's completely at our mercy once we have him, and stops struggling long before we load him- upside down- into one of the seats in the hotel bar, and ply him with drink after drink. We're not exactly quiet- it IS a stag night, after all- and I'm sure many of the other guests looking on will see us and assume that we're a bunch of obnoxious drunken hooligans. But in truth, there is absolutely nowhere I would rather be than right here, right now.

Even as I wake up the following morning with a massive hangover- not helped by Paul's relentless banging on my door matching the banging in my head, I feel happy and content with where I am in my life. As I dress in the hot, itchy tuxedo alongside my four best friends, I have to fight my instincts to give them all hugs right then and there. I AM 'one of the guys'- a dream come true, even if I am by far the smallest of the guys.

...A fact hammered home as I dance with Jamie at the reception, and she towers over me in her ridiculous heels.

"I still can't believe Mary's actually married," Jamie sighs as we later sit around one of the many tables.

"She won't be the last of you to get hitched," I muse, before my eye catches a glimpse of Becca and Riley dancing happily amongst all the other couples on the dancefloor. "Welcome to the wonderful world of growing up..." Much to my surprise, Jamie then sighs a very happy-sounding sigh and rests her head on my shoulder. Tentatively, I rest my head against Jamie's and slowly wrap an arm around her tiny waist. We only stay sat like that for a few minutes, but by the end of that time my heart is pounding like a jackhammer- and I can tell from the pulsing coming from Jamie's chest that hers is as well.

It's well after midnight before I head back to my hotel room and even later before I get to sleep- but not before I receive a text message from Paul reading 'is it a cliché for the best man and maid of honour to hook up at a wedding? Because it's totally happening anyway!' I can't help but smile as I toss my phone onto the nightstand- Krystie has been somewhat eager in her quest for a new boyfriend since we split up, and Paul is a nice, decent guy who's more than capable of giving her what she wants.

Fortunately, on the Sunday morning, I wake up with nowhere near as bad a hangover as I had the previous day, even though it's well before 8:30am and I'm being woken by an incoming call. Half-expecting the call to be from Paul, boasting of his 'conquest', I'm surprised when I see that it's from the girl I danced with last night.

"Jamie?" I groggily ask. "What time is it?"

"What room are you in?" Jamie asks, catching me by surprise with her non-answer of my question.

"Umm... 215," I reply. "Are you at breakfast?"

"Not yet," Jamie says. "Want to grab it together?"

"Sure," I mumble. "Just give me a chance to get dressed..."

After dressing in a very plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, I head down to breakfast, only to encounter Jamie en route- almost as if she'd planned to rendezvous with me. In her short, tight skirt and tight green jumper, she's looking VERY attractive- even if she is wearing too much make-up for this time of the morning.

"Hi Jamie," I say, grinning goofily at the beautiful girl. "You're looking great today!"

"Thanks," Jamie giggles. "You're looking hot too!" 'Hot'? I think to myself.

"Umm, I'm wearing jeans and a sweatshirt," I laugh. "Only way I'd be 'hot' is if they crank up the thermostat." Jamie giggles even more, looking deep into my eyes and gently stroking my arm...

"Jamie," I sigh as I figure out why Jamie is acting uncharacteristically 'open' with me. "Is this about Krystie and Paul?"

"That obvious, eh?" Jamie pouts.

"Never fun being single at a wedding, especially if you're the only person who is," I say, prompting Jamie to link her fingers with mine and stare deep into my eyes.

"That's the point," she says, the sweet smell of her perfume invading my nostrils and making my heart beat ever faster. "We don't HAVE to be..."

"Jamie..." I sigh. "I like you, I like you a lot, but-"

"Is it about me being pre-op?" Jamie asks. "Because in a couple of months I'll-" I silence Jamie by shaking my head.

"It'd be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?" I laugh as I muse how horrified Jamie would be by MY genitals. "I love you, but- but as a friend."

"I love you as a friend too," Jamie sighs. Even despite the 'rejection', Jamie and I spend the rest of the day together, both at breakfast and on the flight back to London, and when she offers me a 'friends with benefits' relationship like I had with Krystie, I make a point of not committing to a 'yes' or a 'no' answer. Jamie is one of the most beautiful women I know- the manner in which she was born doesn't diminish that one bit, but her friendship is one of the biggest blessings in my life- one I daren't ruin.

After the madness of the weekend and a much needed lazy day off on Monday, it's almost a relief to get back to work on Tuesday, especially as my current project is arranging musical pieces for a local play- a job that involves working closely with the main creative force. As I run my latest arrangement past Darren (the director), though, he has things other than his play on his mind.

"So then," the almost stereotypically-camp man teases, "how was Paris with the divas?"

"ANGELS," I correct. "And it was good, been ages since I had a holiday."

"Didn't sleep with any of them this time, then?" Darren teases further. "Didn't cause any of those angelic girls to crash back down to Earth, I hope?"

"No, though not for want of trying," I say. "And before you comment, the trying was on THEIR part."

"Ooh, and here I was thinking you'd committed to the lifestyle of a butch, heterosexual man..." Darren coos.

"I have," I sigh, "but- and god, this will sound stupid... I never really had any female friends growing up, whilst at school. I was 'one of the boys' long before I had the paperwork to prove it."

"Oh, I know the feeling," Darren sighs. "Only, obviously, I was always one of the girls- though I intend on KEEPING my parts very much attached!"

"Each to their own, I guess," I laugh.

"And speaking of angelic creatures," Darren continues, "when ARE you going to let me put that supremely talented younger sister of yours on my stage?"

"When hell freezes over," I chuckle.

"Oh come on," Darren pleads. "I'm not some sleazy executive, you know I'll never 'take advantage' of her, you can't keep her wrapped in cotton wool forever..."

"I can, and I will," I laugh. "Now, this is what I've come up with for song four..."

I spend most of Tuesday and Wednesday working on the play- a welcome distraction from my growing feelings for Jamie, as is the games night Keith hosts on the Wednesday night. Thursday is his birthday, and as always, the Angels (minus Mary, who's away on her honeymoon) have prepared a special dance routine to celebrate. I'm pretty convinced, though, that they just use boys' birthdays as an excuse to dress up in fancy costumes- which is fair enough, I suppose.

As I enter Keith's 'man cave' (actually a small shed-like building in Charlotte's back garden) I'm given the customary welcome of a can of Coke (it would be lager if it wasn't driving) and a PlayStation controller.

"Alright, mate?" Keith asks as I crash down on the sofa. "How was work?"

"Frustrating," I sigh. "Darren's got a laundry list of demands for his music, and taking Monday off has SERIOUSLY set me back."

"Still though," Paul says, "you're getting paid by the hour, right?"

"Only hours I'm actually at the studio," I say. "Even then Darren spends most of his time gossiping about the Angels..."

"You've got to admit though," Keith says, "that association HAS got you a lot of work.

"Oh, it definitely has," I say. "I'm definitely grateful to be friends with the girls."

"But..." Keith teases. "You wish it was more, right?"

"Eh, kind-of," I sigh.

"I remind you that you had your chance," Paul laughs, "and Krystie has now moved on to bigger and better things."

"Oh, fuck off," I moan. "You know I was constantly being hit on by Jamie in Belfast?"

"Bollocks you were," Keith retorts.

"Seriously," I say. "Don't forget we left that place as the only two single people, I think it kinda got to her."

"How exactly would you two do 'it', anyway?" Paul asks.

"I'm sure we could come to some arrangement," I say.

"Would that 'arrangement' include pulleys, winches and access to a mains socket?" Keith laughs.

"Oh- feel free to use all those things and go fuck YOURSELF," I retort, making the whole shed laugh. I don't leave the shed until well after 11pm, but as I head back to my car, I inevitably run into Jamie and Charlotte, whose scandalous necklines, hemlines and heel heights give away that they've had a fairly hectic night on the town.

"Hi Jamie!" I say nervously upon seeing the transwoman I am desperately trying NOT to fall for. "Hi Charlotte, calling an early end to girls night tonight, then?"

"It's not as much fun with only four of us," Charlotte explains. "And we do kinda need to be up early tomorrow." I chat with Charlotte for a brief while before Jamie insists I follow her back inside the house, and once inside, she wastes no time in practically pinning me to her bedroom door.

"I want 'benefits'," Jamie forcefully says, leaning in close to me so I can smell the sweet fragrance she's doused herself with... And the vast quantities of alcohol she's poured down her throat.

"Umm, now?" I ask nervously. "You've kinda had a lot to drink..."

"Oh come on..." Jamie pleads, and every instinct in my body is telling me to take Jamie into her bedroom and spend the night entwined with her body... But I know just how bad an idea that would be in the long run.

"Jamie," I say calmly. "You're going through a lot right now, things in your life are changing, and casual sex with a friend isn't going to change that."

"Can we at least sleep together WITHOUT sex?" Jamie asks. I open my mouth, and I almost find myself agreeing to Jamie's idea, but common sense quickly kicks in and tells me that even without sex, it'd add a level of awkwardness to our relationship that it doesn't need.

"Jamie..." I sigh. "One day, if we both want it, we WILL have sex, I promise you. If by some miracle you're still single, and you want it- no NEED it- then we will, but not when you're this drunk and this upset."

"Dammit," Jamie moans. "Why do you have to be such a good friend?"

"See you tomorrow, Jamie," I whisper, before my instincts take over and I lean into Jamie, giving her a gentle, yet loving, kiss.

I barely sleep that night, I'm so transfixed on the kiss and what it means, and whether or not I AM being oversensitive about Jamie being pre-op- Hannah, another of the Angels, has recently become single, and as the tallest and the one generally considered most attractive by the general public, if she'd demanded casual sex from me, would I have refused like I did with Jamie? Or is it because I value Jamie too much as a friend? Or is it because I’M pre-op and afraid that that will alienate Jamie?

I can barely concentrate at work the following day, and Darren's constant teasing doesn't help, so when 3pm rolls around, it's actually a relief to head home to pick Becca up for Keith's party, though that relief sours slightly when I pick up Krystie and Riley and the teenagers snuggle up together on my back seat.

"Tell us to get a room and we will," Becca threatens, making Krystie laugh.

"Don't see why you're laughing," I moan. "It's your younger sibling too!"

"Yeah," Krystie giggles. "Aren't they cute?"

"NO," I moan. "Why weren't you at games night last night, Riley?"

"My bad," Becca says smugly, once again making me roll my eyes and making Krystie giggle hard.

After arriving, I set up my keyboard in Charlotte's vast 'ballroom', and (after giving Keith his presents and an awkward 'man hug'), play the special piece I'd composed for the occasion. The five girls are all dressed in utterly ridiculous royal blue leotards with top hats and fishnets tights- I think they're supposed to be majorettes, but as ever with Charlotte's costumes, it's hard to be 100% certain.

I manage to grab a quick chat with Jamie after the 'performance', but it's not until virtually everyone has left (including Krystie, Becca and Riley) that I'm able to speak to her in any depth.

"I seriously can't believe you're still wearing that," I say to the costume-clad girl as she gets herself a drink from the bar.

"Hey, I paid for it, I want to get my use out of it!" Jamie giggles. "Not like I'll ever get a chance to wear it again..."

"That's probably for the best," I chuckle. "Jamie... About last night..."

"Can- can we forget that happened?" Jamie says. "Like you said, I was pissed, I was emotional... Now that the Hannah thing's all sorted... I feel much happier now. No need for random casual sex!"

"Good," I say with a smile, though internally I am slightly disappointed.

"Though the offer is still on the table," Jamie continues. "Any time you want it."

"Only if you NEED it too," I say.

"Does anyone really NEED sex?" Jamie muses, sitting down cross-legged on a bar stool. "I mean, yes, it's been ages since I last had it, and it's not like I'm going to die if I never have sex again..."

"Does anyone really NEED anything?" I muse. "Well... Yes. I NEEDED to flood my body with testosterone, or in all likelihood, I'd probably be in a mental hospital or worse by now."

"Yeah," Jamie says flatly. "I know what you mean. I mean, it's like my SRS, I don't NEED a vagina, but..."

"You'll spend the rest of your life having always WANTED one if you didn't undergo the surgery," I say quietly.

"Exactly that," Jamie says- and everything she says rings true for me too. I've lived as a man now for eight years, a full third of my life, and in all that time, I've never had a penis- I've never NEEDED one. But is it wrong to WANT to have one? More to the point, is it wrong to WANT Jamie to be my lover as well as my friend?

"I- I'd better get home," I mumble. "It's late, I've got a mountain of work to do tomorrow..."

"See you round then, you sexy, testosterone-fuelled beast!" Jamie jokes as she gives me a brief kiss. As with last night, I savour her taste all the way home, even as I climb into bed. I LOVE Jamie. I really, truly do... But can I 'love' her in the way she clearly wants me to?